2 New CSIs
by tishathewriter
Summary: What if Ryan wasn't the only new CSI? What if there was another person? Hmm... makes you wonder, huh?
1. Chapter 1

I DO NOT OWN CSI: MIAMI (unfortunately... the things I could do with that show...) I DO OWN ANNA SPASOTI. I think this is around the time where Ryan was the new CSI. Only, he's not alone in this version. He has a fellow trainee. Umm yea I think that's all. Pretty self-explanitory.

Chapter 1: The "Girl Next Door"

Anna's POV

I rushed into work, running up the steps to Miami Dade P.D., racing down the hall to the elevator that would take me to the lab. I leaned against the back of the elevator, since I was the only one in it, and I was tired. The elevator reaches the floor, and I hear the "ding!" while someone gets in. I look up into the eyes of Ryan Wolfe. Immediately I felt the blood rushing to my cheeks. I stuttered, "E-excuse m-me," and left the elevator. I don't know what happens to me when I'm around him. All my thoughts just fly out of my head. Usually I don't see him at all, even though we live in the same apartment complex, on the same floor. I work the graveyard shift, and he works days.

"You all right?"

I turned around, only to see Mr. Caine.

"Yessir," I said, "just a little... winded." Winded was a safe word, right? I mean I looked winded didn't I?

He smiled like he knew something, and said, "Okay then, you ready to go out in the field? We have a kidnap victim in the hospital."

"Yeah. So we're going to the hospital?"

"Not exactly. We're going to the crime scene."

* * *

Ryan's POV

He wasn't expecting to see her here. Well, obviously he was hoping, or else he wouldn't have stayed so late. But that was forgiveable. He was working on a case. How could anyone doubt that? But when those elevator doors opened, and he saw her standing there, leaning against the elevator, even he was doubting his earlier reasons. His CSI-trained eyes noticed that she was breathing heavy, and that she was using the elevator wall for support. He wondered if she was hurt, if she was in pain. He wanted her to forget all of that. He wanted her to be alright. He wanted...

* * *

Anna's POV

I pulled the Hummer into a parking spot at the beach. As I got out of the car, I could see the yellow tape roping off an area of the beach.

"You found her on the beach?" I asked.

"Yes. She washed ashore. It's a miracle she is even in critical condition." I nodded as he said that.

When we got to the scene, I asked what we were looking for.

"Anything," said Mr. Caine. "Anything to catch this guy."

Theme song plays, titles roll So yea first chapter! Hmm 4 reviews and I'll continue. Buenos Noches! Tisha


	2. Chapter 2

**I've just about had it up to here with the stupid review thing that i put in the last chapter. So please disregard that.**

**Continued from the previous page OBVIOUSLY YOU LIKED IT OR YOU WOULDN'T HAVE CLICKED THE LITTLE GRAYISH PURPLE BUTTON AT THE BOTTOM OF THE PAGE AND BE READING THIS RIGHT NOW. But since you did, I suppose I have to write some more, huh? Here goes...**

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN CSI: MIAMI. IF I DID, I PROBABLY WOULDN'T BE HERE, WOULD I?**

Anna's POV

After examining the crime scene thoroughly, Mr. Caine and I headed to the hospital where our victim was currently residing. We had found pieces of duct tape strewn across the crime scene. The tape had been used to bind her wrists and ankles. It was also taped across her nose and mouth, preventing any water from getting to her lungs. The kidnapper had obviously wanted her to drown, making it now pre-meditated murder. I wanted to catch this SOB so bad.

We arrived at the hospital, and were admitted to the victim's room surprisingly quick. I was surprised, since hospital staff usually makes a lot of fuss over their patients' visitors. When I walked into the girl's room, I stopped in my tracks. The girl wasn't even breathing by herself. She could talk, though, and that was all that mattered. She had long, dark brown hair, and tan skin. I couldn't tell if she was a different nationality, and usually I try to stay away from the whole "racism thing," but something about her made me want to know where she came from. There was something about her...

I sat down on a chair with a poster of Maroon 5 on it, and Mr. Caine sat in one with a poster of Matchbox Twenty on it. The girl weakly smiled and joked, "You're covering up the beautiful pictures."

I was surprised to see Mr. Caine smile back and say, "That's okay sweetie, we'll be gone in a little while."

"You're the ones my mami told me about. The ones that want to know what happened to me." The girl couldn't have been older than fifteen, and she was acting so brave. It made me think of my younger brother and parents I left in Connecticut.

"That's right," I said with a slight smile, trying to keep the conversation light. "Do you remember anything?"

"I was asleep," she said. "I have trouble falling asleep, but when I do, I'm not easy to wake up." Mr. Caine and I smiled.

"I was on vacation with my family; my brother, my Mami and Dadi, my cousins, and my aunt and _oncle_." She said the last word in French, letting an accent leak through. "My brother and I had been assigned an adjoining room, so we could watch our cousins. My parents were in the other adjoining room, my aunt and uncle down the hall somewhere. Paul, my brother, was sick and tired of my cousins, so he went in with my parents, and I was left alone with the kids." Now, a tear leaked down her cheek. "I locked the door, and got the children into bed. At some point, they both climbed in with me, and we fell asleep." More tears sneaked through her guard. "What if it had been one of them? Oh, God, if it had been them... I wouldn't have forgiven myself. Please keep them safe." She said, praying. Then she looked at us. "I guess you want to know what happened after that, but I don't remember anything. I fell asleep with my cousins, and wake up with this machine," she said, nodding towards the breathing machine. "I just... I hope you guys catch them."

"Them?" asked Mr. Caine. "Was there more than one?"

"No, thank God," she said. "I just said that because... eh... _je ne sais pas_ if the person is a man or a woman." This girl just keeps amazing me. Most people assume that killers are men, there are only some women. But, she just passed over that barrier, not assuming anything.

"Are you gonna be alright?" I asked her. "You have family taking care of you and everything?"

"_Si_," she answered. "My Mami is staying at a hotel near here, the rest went home."

"Alright, Jess, we're going to leave now, if you have any questions, you can call us at this number," Mr. Caine said, as he pulled out a piece of paper with Miami Dade's phone number on it.

"Eh, Senor Caine? Senorita Spasoti?" We turned from the doorway to look at her. "Don't you need to, er, catalog my wounds or something like that?"

I looked at Mr. Caine. He was going to let me handle this one. "What do you want me to look at exactly?" I asked.

"When I woke up, I noticed some bruising on my chest." She said, "I thought you guys might want to know... there was also something sticky on it..." as I walked over to her bedside. "Senor Caine, could you please grant me the privacy..." she didn't need to finish. Mr. Caine smiled and walked out of the room. Jess looked at me and pulled her arm through the hospital shirt. Right beneath her breastbone was a huge bruise, at leat 3 inches in diameter, and in the middle of that was a small circle of greenish-black goo. I bent down and took the tools I needed out of my case.

"I'm going to take a picture of the bruise, alright?" I asked. Jess nodded. While I went about my work, I talked to her. Turns out, she's only thirteen. She had been bilingual since she could talk, speaking both English and Italian. While the English remained, the Italian faded with unuse, and she learned Spanish and French to make up for it. She loves Maroon 5, along with many other bands, and that would explain the posters all over the walls. She even got to see Maroon 5 in concert. When she talked about that, a sad smile spread across her face. "What's that for?" I asked. "You look sad."

She smiled another sad smile, "I'll probably never be able to see them again, not like this," once again gestuering to the machine.

I started to tear up. I finished quick, saying my good-byes and see-you-soons, trying to get out of there before I started crying. I told Mr. Caine that I would drop the evidence off at the lab, and go home, for it was starting to get light out. After visiting the lab, I got in my Hummer and drove home, needing a good day's sleep.

Ryan

He woke up to a flooded apartment. "Great... just great..." he muttered as he waded around his apartment collecting things before they got too wet. He called the super. A pipe in his apartment had burst, flooding the place. He would have to stay somewhere else for a week or two. _Great..._

After he was finished packing things up, he went around to all his neighbors asking if he could stay there. The answer was always the same, "...We don't have any room... but the lady at the end of the hall... she has room..." He hated that. He knew the lady at the end of the hall had room. He also knew who the lady was...

Anna's POV

I was preparing my dinner, blasting some Matchbox Twenty. _"...And at times I do believe I am strong!..." _...and singing along. The music was so loud, I almost didn't hear the quiet knock on the door. I turned down the music blaring out of my laptop, went to go answer the door...

And looked up into the dark eyes of CSI Ryan Wolfe.

_Hello, goodmorning._ I thought. "_Salve, buongiorno."_ I said.

"Ah... hello?" he responded, and I smacked my head.

"I'm... I'm really sorry... when I get nervous... I... I lapse back into my first language." I said, smiling apologetically. He looked amazed... as if he had never met anyone who didn't have English as their first language.

"Oh, that's alright. I'm Ryan Wolfe, we both work at Miami Dade," he said.

"Yeah... I kinda figured that... I'm Anna Spasoti, and if you don't mind me asking... what are you doing here?"

"Well... uh... a pipe broke in my apartment... and I was wondering if you had any room? All the rest of the tenants on this floor keep saying you have room... and I was just wondering..."

I smiled, "Oh, I'm always willing to take in strange men off the street. Come on in..."

**Hmmm even I don't know what's gonna happen next... maybe I should start thinking... I'M OFF TO SEE JERRY BRUCKHEIMER ON WHETHER I COULD WRITE THE CSI: MIAMIS... BBL Tisha**


End file.
